


Creative

by fits_in_frames



Series: One-Word Prompts (2019) [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, Food, M/M, Other, Scene: Paris 1793 (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: In which there is a debate over brunch.





	Creative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zaphodthebb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaphodthebb/gifts).

> _it's a dream and it's a bit of a dance_  
_a bit of a posture, it's a bit of a stance_  
_he's a bit of a flirt, but I'm 'a give it a chance_  
{satisfied (from hamilton)}
> 
> \--
> 
> I asked for one-word prompts on Twitter and Tumblr; the prompt word for this one, if it's not obvious, was "satisfied."
> 
> Unbeta'd, all shortcomings are my own.

"So, let me get this straight," Anathema says, punctuating her thought by stabbing the air with her fork. "You went to France. During the Reign of Terror. Dressed as an aristocrat. Because you wanted crêpes. _And you didn't know how to speak French._"

"I was rusty!" Aziraphale interjects.

Anathema takes another bite of her omelette and then points at Crowley. "And then this one just, what, emerged from the shadows and whisked you away?"

Aziraphale sets his teacup down and looks absolutely scandalized. "Angels do not get _whisked away_, young lady."

She ignores him. "And you think that's _not_ flirting?"

Newt, who has been sitting quietly, eating his own plate of crêpes and soaking up this entire bizarre conversation, chooses this moment to speak up. "But, I mean, you did it on purpose, right? B-both of you. You both _obviously_ did it on purpose."

Crowley, who has his arm around a very agitated Aziraphale, looks meaningfully over the top of his glasses at his _angelito_.

Aziraphale turns to him and huffs. "And _you_ just happened to appear in my exact cell at the exact moment the executioner arrived? _Really_, my dear."

"_My_ motivations were never up for debate, angel," Crowley says, and grins devilishly.

"Yeah, I hate to break it to you," Anathema concludes, "but you were _definitely_ flirting with him."

Aziraphale hasn't looked away from Crowley. "Yes, all right, fine," he admits. "You were absolutely _impossible_ to get a hold of, I had to get _creative_. So I _flirted_ a little bit. Are you _satisfied_?"

A pause, in which Crowley looks more and more smug by the second. 

Aziraphale rolls his eyes. "Oh, you are insufferable."

"And yet you continue to suffer me." Affection is practically dripping from Crowley's voice. It would be annoying if they weren't so damn cute.

They all eat in silence for a minute, Aziraphale continuing to turn a very dark shade of pink.

And then Crowley takes a loud sip of his coffee and says, "Wait until I tell you about our wedding."

Aziraphale's fork hits his plate. "I've told you a hundred times, Crowley, just because we were in a church doesn't mean it was a wedding!"

Anathema leans forward in her seat and picks up a slice of bacon. This is the best brunch she's had in a very long time.

Newt just mutters, _oh good lord_, and adds another sugar cube to his tea.

**Author's Note:**

> {Come say hi on [Tumblr](https://dreamsincolor.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fits_in_frames)!}


End file.
